Here’s this week’s column, take two.
“I love taking Mr. Man to my doctor appointments. Not because it’s nice to have the good doc validate all my aches and pains, or because it’s great to have someone tell him that my current insanity stems from the baby gaining half a pound a week, but because at the Dr’s office, my husband thinks I’m sexy.
I know, eight months pregnant and sexy do not normally go together, but my husband is a good think-outside-the-boxer.
So we’re sitting there last week at my appointment going through the routine testing required at each visit: yellow sample, weight check, blood pressure. We all know that there’s a delicate balance to this process, and it starts first thing in the morning.
On appointment days, I’m always careful to wear the smallest amount of light-weight clothing available (which might consist of a swimsuit sarong, or possibly just a swimsuit), I eat a sensible breakfast of cheese puffs, and drink nothing until 30 minutes before the actual appointment. That’s when I gulp down six ounces of light-weight liquid to offer it up to the sample gods, with hopes that it will take a few leftover calories with it.
After arriving at the clinic, I usually drag Mr. I’ve Never Been Pregnant back to the testing area, drop him off, and make my way to the restroom. You might think a pregnant woman can urinate on command, but there’s nothing worse than pressure from that little plastic cup.
Then comes the long walk to the Scales of Torture and Insanity. Personally, I think it’s nothing short of animal cruelty to force a pregnant woman onto a scale once a month. I’d rather undergo cosmetic testing any day. Paint me like a petunia, but leave my weight out of it.
The weigh-in is a two part deal. First, you have to explain to the nurse exactly why your seven pound weight gain is strictly tied to the Chinese food you ate for dinner the night before, and explain that it has nothing to do with your multiple chins or expanding waistline.
Then comes the tricky part. Every pregnant woman knows there’s only one way to step on a scale–backwards. That’s right, if you’re smart, you throw that puppy in reverse and never actually confront the number. Hey, if you don’t see it, it doesn’t count.
But here’s the best part about the entire visit: they always check my blood pressure. In my case, despite the yelling and the high level of stress that comes with raising three small children from the comfort of my couch, I have rocking good blood pressure. It is the one and only reason I invite my husband to these visits: he thinks my blood pressure is sexy.
“Dang, girl,” he says last week, “You have awesome blood pressure!” He then proceeded to wink at me and wriggle his eyebrows like I’d just flashed him a little thigh instead of 116/80. “Wanna go out Friday?”
I’ll tell you, my ankles might be enormous, and I might need help getting off the couch, but as far as my blood pressure is concerned, I’m Pamela Anderson in his book. Man, just imagine how he’s going to react to my low-cholesterol score…
I agree that weighing pregnant women is beyond cruel. Then criticizing us for gaining weight is just plain mean! With my last baby I told the doctor up front how much I planned on gaining and that no matter what I did that was what was going to happen. Guess what she didn’t say one word when I gained exactly what I said i would LOL!
That is hysterical. I love the blood pressure in our family! We do have rocking good blood pressure. And for sure, on those days I didn’t like what the scale read, I could always count on my blood pressure.
Last night we took Bryce’s…139/88. I couldn’t help but flaunt my traditional 100/60. I wish he thought it was sexy. Unfortunately he’s a slave to the scale gods! Which is not quite as great a number as my blood pressure 🙁
My Dr.’s office had the number reading thing on the bottom shelf of a little table, so I couldn’t see it. Still have no idea how much weight I gained with my pregnancy. and I had twins.
I’m happy not knowing.
ooh! I have awesome blood pressure too! It never goes up and I’m constantly anxiety ridden! 😀 Thats funny that your husband thinks its sexy, my husband would never think of that; although I could have something in my eye and he’d think I was coming on to him… 🙂
Woohoo, that is HOT! ☺
Ow! Ow! Way to go, Annie!!! I love your perspective.. you totally crack me up! xoxoxo
Going with me to the doctor makes my husband go all alpha male and protective. When my gall bladder led that insurrection last year, my husband all but strapped on a sword and rode Shadowfax into the examining room.
“Attend to my wife, or feel the steely kiss o’ me blade!” Something like that.
It’s too bad I was so sick I was hoping I’d keel over in the elevator; otherwise his behavior would have been crazy sexy!